


first date gone wrong

by psilostashya



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: But it's okay, First Date, First Date Gone Wrong, Go Easy On Me, Human AU, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, first sander sides fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 02:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psilostashya/pseuds/psilostashya
Summary: Virgil's alone, sitting in a coffee shop as he waits patiently for his date. Will he show?





	first date gone wrong

His hands were jittery, fingers digging into the hot styrofoam cup that held his fourth helping of coffee, (it was a wonder that he didn't have to piss.) The caffeine was doing wonders on his anxiety, making it so much worse. 

 

Virgil checked his phone for the umpteenth time in the past five minutes, his brows creasing together even more than they already were. No new messages.

 

He gnawed on his lip, his leg bouncing underneath the table. 

 

He had been sitting in that coffee shop for well over two hours, waiting. Waiting for his fucking date. But at this point he was just waiting for the barista, that kept giving him dirty looks, to kick him out. 

 

It was pretty clear that he'd been stood up. The thought really unsettled him-- he thought he knew Roman. He thought that he was actually a decent guy-- and he liked him; Virgil  _ really  _ fucking liked him. 

 

He blinked back tears that threatened to fall from his lashes. He could feel the rims of his eyelids were probably red from doing that so much, they burned from the unshed tears.

 

Virgil shakily brought his cup up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the rim before taking a sip of the hot beverage. He should leave. Go home and curl up in a ball of self-loathing. Was Virgil really that bad of a catch? He turned and looked out the window, gazing at the tall buildings and passing cars. It was raining-- quite heavily, and it surprised Virgil that he hadn't noticed it before.

 

He took another gulp of the caffeinated drink, it caught in his throat, almost making him choke on it. What if the rain was why Roman was a no show? There could of been an accident-- or hell  _ he could of been in the accident. _ But wouldn't he call and tell Virgil, or at least answer his texts?

 

He groaned and rubbed his temple with the heel of his hand. The caffeine, anxiety, and excessive thinking was giving him a headache. He glanced out the window again before pulling out his phone, checking the time while seeing if he got any messages. Seeing as it was getting so late, and his 'prince charming’ was a no show-- he wanted to get up and push his chair in, walk out and throw his dirty bean water in trash on his way. That's what he  _ wanted  _ to do. What he  _ did  _ do however, was curl in on himself as his body wracked with sobs.

 

The tears he so desperately tried to hold back-- for the past couple hours-- streamed like a waterfall down his cheeks and fell from his chin, no doubt ruining his eye shadow. His eyeshadow that he worked  _ so hard _ on; for his and Roman's date. 

 

He had been looking forward to it all week, since Roman had asked him out. And he was so  _ stupid  _ to think that the other meant it. He looked so genuine and nervous, and all the flirting leading up to that day felt so real.  _ Duh. He's a fucking actor _ , he thought to himself bitterly. It was all a joke, an elaborate scheme to make Virgil feel like this. And he fell for it, God,  _ he fucking fell for it.  _ Roman didn't like him, and he didn't blame him. He was a wreck-- just look at him now! Crying over something like that, something that was clearly too good to be true. 

 

He balled his hands into fists and scrubbed his eyes, fucking the makeup worse-- but he didn't care anymore. He wanted to go home. He was bawling his eyes out in public-- people were probably staring, not that Virgil could see them, blinded by the salty tears that continued to flow, his tear ducts like a broken faucet.

 

Sniffling, he wiped his nose with his sleeve, (the sleeve of a brand new shirt he bought for the occasion.) He looked up at the ceiling, blinking furiously as to keep the rest back. His hiccups made him choke and sputter, but he still took deep breaths to try and calm down.

 

He really should go-- with a burst of adrenaline he got up and grabbed his cup. About to make a beeline for the door-- before it burst open with impressive force, the little bell to alert the staff of new customers snapped off and fell to the tiled floor, bouncing before rolling towards Virgil. The door had hit the wall, it shook from the impact.

 

And standing there in the doorframe, was none other than Roman himself. Drenched head to toe, with a deranged look on his face as he he leaned on the wall for support, panting heavily. When he caught Virgil's eye he all but shouted his name, running over to him in long strides. 

 

“Virgil! I'm so,  _ so  _ sorry!” he shouted, hands held out in front of him like he didn't know what to do with them, “I--I, my boss made me stay later to talk about my--my hours-- and I couldn't call or text you cause i accidentally left my phone on my kitchen counter this morning! And  _ then _ !” he waved his arms dramatically, flinging water everywhere, “My shitty honda broke down!” he started panting again, leaning his hands on his knees as he sucked in ragged breaths, “So I. . .ran here.”

 

Virgil stared at him, mouth agape, unable to find a proper thing to say in response. His heart was clenched and he felt like crying again; Roman didn't stand him up. He was just a fucking idiot-- “Wait, you ran?” he questioned.

 

Roman nodded, still gasping for breath, “Since. . .Lincoln. . .boulevard.”

 

His eyes widened, “That's eleven miles!” he exclaimed;  _ and in the rain no less.  _

 

“Yeah,” Roman said, dismissing it as if it was nothing. He looked up at Virgil, still crouched, and gave him a pleading look, “I'm  _ so  _ sorry.”

 

Virgil's mouth worked but he found no words, instead he watched as Roman looked him over: he wanted to hide when Roman gave him the most apologetic frown, that he had ever seen. 

 

He straightened up and waddled over to Virgil, his feet must of been very sore. He grasped virgil's shoulders with his big strong hands, looking like he was going to cry. “m’ so sorry.” he pulled him into a tight embrace, either forgetting about the fact that he was soaked, or just not caring, “So sorry that I messed up our first date.” Virgil heard him sniffle, “It was supposed to be perfect! We were going to have coffee and--and talk! I was gonna tell you how pretty you--you look. . .and, and go to the movies-- I was going to take you on a romantic walk at the park.” Virgil's heart swelled in relief and joy as he listened to the other's tangent, “Where I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

 

Virgil froze, a new onslaught of tears making their way down his face.

 

“No. . .Stormcloud, I'm sorry.” he held him tighter, “Please don't cry.”

 

He sputtered a wet laugh, grabbing Roman's face, before giving him a messy kiss on the cheek. (When he pulled back he wanted to laugh at the bright blush on the older boy's face.)

 

“Ask me.” Virgil told him, smiling despite how miserable he was a few moments ago.

 

“Ask? Ask you. . .” realization dawned on his face, and that time Virgil did laugh, “Will-- will you. . .wait, hold on.” Roman got down on one knee, grasping Virgil's hand with both of his, (Virgil thought he was going to die from a combination of happiness, and embarrassment.) “Will you, Virgil Rothschild, make me the. . .luckiest, most honored man alive by being my boyfriend?”

 

Virgil bellowed over in laughter, his hand still in Roman's grasp. The latter looked confused, and a bit worried.

 

When his giggles subsided, Virgil gave a firm nod and a goofy grin, “Of course, Princey.”

 

Roman jumped up and shouted, fist pumping the air before he grabbed Virgil and gave him a bone crushing hug. 

 

Virgil sighed and relaxed in the embrace, winding his arms around Roman's neck. “So,” he murmured against his shoulder, “When's our next date?”

**Author's Note:**

> this is honestly the first fanfic that ive written that's not osomatsu san-- and im kinda proud about that. 
> 
> i wrote this in one sitting and didnt go back to fix anything so im sorry for mistakes or bad grammar.


End file.
